


What are you waiting for

by green_tea



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4941415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_tea/pseuds/green_tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan and Cullen are knee-deep in paperwork they have to finish before sunrise. Meanwhile, a gossip about them reach the tavern where their beloved ones brood over ale, pretending not to brood at all. </p><p>Add lots of wine, ridiculous conversations, a jealous Tevinter and Sera who only wants to help. In her Sera-ish way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What are you waiting for

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic to cheer up my Soulmate a bit and she is the reason I decided to put it on ao3 despite stressing like crazy. She helped me correct and improve it - thank you so much!  
> I'm awful with titles so this one comes from Ellie Goulding "Love Me Like You Do" which I listened to when I had to come up with a title for this fic :)

Josephine yawns, discreetly covering her mouth with her elegant hand. Her eyes are reddened and Lavellan feels bad for her. After all, it was her and Leliana who worked for the last two weeks to make this operation possible in the first place.

“I think that I can very well take over from here,” Lavellan says, trying to sound firm. “It’s just writing a few documents, nothing I wouldn’t be able to do on my own.”

Josephine shoots him a thankful smile but Leliana has pleasantries for nothing and measures him with a steady stare.

“The invitations and orders have to be ready for the morning and it is still about a hundred or so documents to write. Even if the three of us worked on it, we would finish late at night.”

Lavellan holds her gaze.

“They will be ready. You did everything that demanded knowledge about the situation, we discussed everything several times, now just go and have a decent sleep and trust me to write these few pages right,” he says trying his best commanding voice which is nothing compared to Leliana’s most casual whisper. Leliana looks skeptical at best but Josephine’s eyes are so full of hope and that works as the greatest motivation. “I need you on your best tomorrow when all of it sets into motion,” he adds in a tone not leaving room for any objections, praying in his mind Leliana won’t kick him out through the window for insinuating she needs things like sleep.

“Fine,” she says after a pause. “Just be sure you manage to finish. Come, Josie. Cullen?”

“I’ll stay,” Cullen replies with surprise as if it was obvious. “I haven’t done that much during recent couple of days.”

“Of course. You worked only sixteen hours a day,” Leliana notices sourly. “As you wish.”

“We will deal with everything first thing in the morning,” Josephine promises from the door, probably already dreaming about a long, hot bath she totally deserves after this week.

Lavellan nods and keeps nodding through her promises as the two leaves the room.

“Let’s not waste time,” he says matter-of-factly as he looks at the pile on the table. It will take them most of the night but hell, not like they didn’t have nights like that before.

“Agreed,” Cullen mutters, already shuffling through the documents.

*

“Doesn’t bother you two shitheads,” Sera says swinging on the tavern stool with a malicious smile. “That your lover boys spend all this time alone and shite? Doing shite knows what? Normal people will, I don’t know, say some shite but you two not. Strange.”

“If I assume correctly you expect me to be jealous of our irreplaceable Commander’s work,” Dorian raises his brow over a glass of wine. Poor wine but what can you do, a person may get used to everything. Not willingly, of course, but there are things one may value slightly more than a good wine. “Which would be quite pointless, don’t you think? Wanting the Commander of the Inquisition not to do any commanding?”

Sera snorts and her face is all crunched in joy as if she was planning a prank right now. Which might be true, actually, and Dorian is surely as hell not falling for this one.

“I say what I say. They drive the girls away, think they are what. They need some, you know. You know what they need, right?” She points out with a sly grin.

“They need to finish some job and that’s all there is to it,” Dorian says trying not to get irritated. It’s true that Leliana and Josephine were busy with creating a web of alliances and barely left the war room, but Cullen _also_ had not enough time for sleeping like a normal person should, dividing his time between conceiving strategies and training the recruits. To the point that Dorian, _Dorian_ of all people, started to feel a little lonely. As if he missed all those inconveniently deep conversations, falling asleep together tangled in smelly woolen blankets or lazy heart-attack inducing, artery clogging Ferelden breakfast that Cullen delivered to bed with a sheepish smile. Only because it stopped for a few days, ridiculous.

It is slightly rubbing him the wrong way. Itching. Pinching, maybe.

Dorian casts Bull a suspicious gaze from under his lashes. Lavellan just came back from the field two days ago and jumped into haze of planning right away, but Bull doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest that his lover has no time for him at all. It’s not Dorian’s business, but he would be tempted to say something, and maybe he would, if he wasn't beaten to it by Sera.

“Hey, Bull, I get you’re fine with that, yeah? Open business, I get that.” Sera grins broadly and Bull, all lazy smile and easiness blinks in confusion over his ale.

“What do you mean?” He asks with amusement.

“You fucks all you want.” Sera points a finger at him. “He can, too.”

“I don’t,” Bull laughs. “Not when I’m together with the boss.”

“Not in one room but when he goes, or you go,” Sera says. “You talk about it all the time.”

“It’s called flirting.” Bull shrugs. “Boss knows it’s just talking.”

“Nah, I know you do. Fuck.” Sera waves her hand dismissively. “Inky knows, too. He is not that stupid as he looks, you know.”

“He doesn’t look stupid. And I would notice if he was jealous. I’m…”

“Ben something, something, yeah, heard, but you’re still a dense tit is what you are,” Sera grins. “Just saying. You may want to go there. If it matters.”

She jumps off the stool and runs to the door.

“Ridiculous,” Dorian mutters into the wine.

*

Lavellan puts another document aside and wiggle his fingers, nearly numb from the number invitations he wrote. Shit, if only he was more used to it, like Cullen is. The ex-templar writes one page after another, his hand sure and quick. Lavellan is not uneducated himself but before the whole Inquisition situation he wrote things so rarely that his beginnings as the Inquisitor were rather shameful. Big childish letters, written slowly and in total concentration.

It’s getting really late and Lavellan’s mind starts to get a little foggy. But the fatigue he experienced was mostly physical the last couple of days so it will only do him well to work more mentally. That’s what the Keeper was always saying.

“Hey, Cullen,” Lavellan says, needing a little break from figuring out how to phrase the invitation to this cavalier or that lady. “Hey. Cullen?” The Commander sits too far from him for Lavellan to nudge him. He seems so engrossed in writing like it was some kind of trance. “Rutherford? _Amatus_?”

That does the trick and Cullen jumps on his chair.

“What?”

Lavellan grins toothily.

“I guess Dorian is the only person who can drag you out of your office.”

“That’s not funny,” Cullen grumbles, his face going an interesting shade of pink. But the times when Lavellan would feel awkward for making Cullen flustered are long gone. Too many sleepless nights in this room over the piles of maps and documents, too many battles together. “You should get to work if you want to go out from here before sunrise. _Kadan_.”

“You missed, Commander,” Lavellan grins smugly. “I’m not embarrassed by this title.”

“Title,” Cullen mutters to himself, shaking his head.

“Laugh all you want, it’s more than endearment, really,” the elf explains.

“So what does he call you then?” Cullen arches an eyebrow. “If there is more to it. Elf? Little one? Sweetheart? Is this the right direction?”

“Who would know you can be so sassy.” It’s Lavellan’s turn to mutter as he fights his blush away.

“No, wait, I know,” Cullen leans back in his chair, his arms folded, smile malicious. “How is that in elven? Ma… _Ma vhenan_ , Inquisitor?”

Cullen laughs openly as Lavellan’s ears become scarlet red to the very tips.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” the Commander says all too smug and Lavellan hisses elven curses under his nose, defeated. “I do understand the appeal. These words, said in this rough voice…”

“Shut up and come back to work, Commander,” Lavellan mutters taking another pile of papers. He really doesn't need to remind himself how Bull’s voice sounds when he uses this word now, when he has still so many invitations to write.

*

“All I’m sayin’,” Sera mumbles while chewing some bread stick and sweeping the crumbles on Dorian’s new clothes. “Must be lonely there, in that stupid room. Using all those stupid special words and shite.”

“What words?” Bull gets interested and Dorian pours himself some more wine. Sera could mean magic spells, maybe of templars kind because other kinds of magic are unavailable for both the Commander and the Inquisitor. But Dorian thinks about very different special words, those words Cullen hasn’t speak to him in a while and Dorian feels intense urge to use more words towards Cullen immediately. Very dirty, very vivid words.

“These stupid words you say when you get all lovey,” Sera sighs dramatically, clutching her hands to her chest.

“Says someone who calls her love nothing short of Widdle.”

“But this is a name just for her!” Sera shouts indignantly. “Not a stupid name everyone can use. In your ass-languages.”

“Oh,” Dorian comments brilliantly. “And you know that how?”

“You important people think you’re only ones in the world,” Sera snorts. “But there is always someone close, whose job is you don’t see them but they’re there.”

“That’s a rather creepy image,” Bull says zeroing his beer. “Being always watched and a target of some wild gossip while all you want is just a bit of healthy, innocent flirting.”

Dorian chuckles over his wine but it does sting a little. Cullen doesn’t have time to flirt with him recently. But he flirts with the Inquisitor. With whom he spends most of his time. What a lovely, lovely image. Just one you want in your head while drinking shitty wine and listening to cheesy ballads about love that never come to be. _Lovely._

*

Three fourths. That must be it, the end is near. Only few more hours and they will be free from the paper hell.

“Fade seems like a stroll now,” Lavellan mutters as he folds a sheet with a huge ink smudge in a bird-like shape and throws it at Cullen who sits with his face hidden in hands.

“These are just documents,” the Commander sighs. “We just need to finish them. Just a few hours more.”

“Josephine and Leliana would finish them by now,” Lavellan points out gravely.

“Probably an hour ago. They would be soaking in a bath right now,” Cullen agrees with something so close to a whine that Lavellan hits his forehead against the table.

“But they couldn’t do it, not again,” he observes.

“You’re right. They worked so hard recently. They deserve all the rest.”

“They do.”

“But they are simply better at, like… everything.”

“They are.”

*

“When there is wine, there is a party,” Sera yells but Dorian can barely hear what she’s saying; at this hour and with a day free from duties tomorrow, the tavern is full to bursting and drowned in music, laughs and people’s chatter.

“Ha, I’ve heard your sweethearts have a very personal party without you, I saw a maid bringing up a bottle of Hirol’s Lava Burst,” Blackwall chortles and for a moment Dorian entertains himself with a vision of the warden in flames, and it’s not even the first time he imagines how his different spells would affect the bearded bastard.

“It’s normal to brighten your thoughts with a glass of wine when you work,” he says. “So it’s nothing strange they asked for some wine delivered…”

Sera and Blackwall exchange glances and burst in laughter so hard Sera gets a hiccup and Blackwall bends over.

“Yeah, because Lavellan is all about work when drunk,” Blackwall punches the table with his fist in joy. “He wasn’t almost rubbing himself against Bull last time we drank.”

“Good times,” Bull agrees raising his mug. Qunaris really must be thicker than Dorian suspected if all this nonsense does absolutely nothing to irritate Bull in the slightest.

“And Cullen, he looked like you were made of pie,” Sera nudges Dorian. “Very tasty pie.”

Blackwall gurgles at that while Dorian stubbornly smiles with satisfaction despite irritation greater with every comment simmering in his chest.

“This is not a surprise that if I were a pie I would be the best one,” he observes with stony self-assurance to their peals of laughter.

“So, the two, lots of wine, closed doors,” Sera enumerates on her fingers. “Not my thing what’s going on there, but yours, shitheads.”

Bull shouts something to Krem and Dorian wonders if he pretends it doesn’t get to him at all or it really doesn’t. Not that such absurd talking would make Dorian jealous over some coarse soldier from godforsaken village, one with a foolishly trusting smile and rough hands and... He pours himself another glass of wine.

*

“Do people in Ferelden really sleep with their dogs?” Lavellan wonders biting his thumb over a document that for a moment makes absolutely no sense anymore. At least his head doesn’t ache because of the sweet wine a servant brought to their room without being asked.

“What... do you mean?” Cullen asks carefully and Lavellan turns to him, wide-eyed.

“Seriously?! Creators, that’s mad!”

“No! Not like that,” Cullen sits back grumpily. “We don’t have _sex_ with our mabaris. But they are very close, you know, like family members…”

“You do sleep with them!”

“As if elves didn’t sleep with hallas!”

“We really don’t,” Lavellan laughs. “We respects the hell out of them but they live in pens or in meadows, believe me.”

“Oh,” Cullen mutters, his cheeks reddening. “If you had a mabari, you would understand.”

“Maybe,” Lavellan agrees. “I can’t imagine Dorian sharing a bed with you _and_ a mabari.”

“Maker, no,” Cullen laughs.

“A cat, though,” the elf taps his chin. “I can imagine Dorian being a cat person.”

“But even better,” Cullen gets enthusiastic and his reddened cheeks show how much wine he already drank. “He is like that desert fennecs. Sharp teeth, but if it trusts you enough to pet him, it’s so soft, so fluffy and…” he stops realizing what he is saying and for a moment the Inquisitor and his Commander stare at each other only to burst in laughter.

“I’m totally bringing you a fennec from Western Approach next time,” Lavellan wheezes.

“Just not the fur, that would be sad,” Cullen tries to regain calmness.

“Nobody would hurt Dorian-like creature.”

“They better not.”

*

“So, Chef, what is with that gossip going all around that the Inquisitor doesn’t love you anymore?” Krem asks conversationally as he sits next to them.

“Believe in every word you hear in this tavern and you would think sky will swallow us all tomorrow,” Bull says lightly.

“Which actually may be true, if all of us drink here all night,” Dorian adds just as lightly.

“Nobody pours this wine down your throat, ‘Vint.”

“Extraordinary as it is, that’s truth. I wonder why I do it to myself, drinking this poor excuse for a drink.”

“Maybe to drown your sorrows,” Krem offers in Tevene and Dorian chuckles against his will. “All I say is maybe you two should go and check on them instead of brooding here.”

“Hey, I’m not brooding,” Bull says.

“No, you only told us the joke about the water dragon. Twice in the last hour,” Krem sighs. “If that’s not missing the boss, I’m scared to think what it would be like…”

*

“How does it even work?” Cullen asks, his stare a little glazed but intense.

“What?” Lavellan mutters from where he lies with his cheek against the table. The pile that needs to be written is so small now. But their hands and minds are so clouded it goes so slow, as if going through mud. Waist-deep mud. With corpses all around.

“You are so small and Bull. You know.”

“Oh, you picture us doing it,” Lavellan sits straight scrunching his nose with a grin. “Is my tight-laced Commander drunk enough to start _such_ topics? Why so curious, would you want to join?”

“I would not.” Cullen rolls his eyes. “I’m not the sharing type.”

“Good, me neither.”

“So?”

“You really want to know?” Lavellan looks through the window. The dusk will come in not so many hours. Again, a night without seeing Bull. “You can imagine it needs some… work to do before. And for the whole thing, we need some time, so no quick ones in a closet…”

“I do pity you,” Cullen says with a smile so dreamy he for sure doesn’t look sympathetic.

“Well, there are other things we can do against the door to Josephine’s cabinet,” Lavellan is close to sticking his tongue out but instead he pours himself some more wine. “And when it happens… When he takes me for real…” He looks for words and shame is long ago drowned in wine. “It’s unstoppable like a tide, sweeping me off, dragging along this strong current. It’s like there is nothing else in me, not even thoughts, he fills me so completely that I’m like boneless and only ropes hold me in place, ropes and his big hands, nothing matters besides this one feeling that… Well. This feeling is _only_ for Bull.”

“Pretty graphic.”

“Are you blushing, Commander?”

*

“This is your fault,” Dorian would like to call himself tipsy but probably that he should do a few hours ago. He points at Bull feeling earnestly offended. “If you were not flirting with everything that walks on two legs or even worse, the Inquisitor wouldn’t look around for anyone else!”

“What’s wrong with you all and my flirting tonight? These are just jokes!” Bull starts to look as exasperated as Dorian feels, which is a small comfort.

“They don’t seem to be! Lavellan must feel you don’t care about him enough.”

“Just admit you’re jealous that Cullen doesn’t always chase after you around like a Ferelden puppy.”

“These are called mabari. And as for jealousy, it is foreign to me. I just don’t want to see hearts broken and…”

“Sure you don’t. Yours especially.”

“You’re so full of yourself, wonder what will happen if something _or_ someone happens to Lavellan. What if he gets tired of a bull and gets curious about a lion? After all hallas are noble creatures, no wonder they prefer company of the royal ones.”

Bull growls at that lowly. Dorian sips his wine with grim satisfaction.

*

“Just five more to go! We are so close,” Lavellan yells and he can’t remember such adrenaline on the battleground in many days.

“This is damned Lord Beaumont!” Cullen grabs the paper with such force Lavellan almost falls off his chair. “He was in the Winter Palace! I don’t know if he wanted more to get into my bed or marry me to his daughter.”

“Creepy shit,” Lavellan nods grimly and lifts up his pointing finger. “As the Inquisition, we should burn Halamshiral.”

“With the aristocracy inside. Their dresses would burn so nicely.”

“That’s quite bloodthirsty,” Lavellan laughs. “But yeah, no more balls.”

“No more Game.”

“To Fade with Game!”

“Write that to him!”

“Dear lord whatever your name, don’t touch Cullen again or we throw you to the nugs!”

“Or, or we could take Halamshiral and make it our summer quarters. Dorian loved the library,” Cullen says with dreamy eyes.

“And so much space for everyone!”

“The gardens!”

“And that bed with those bedposts…”

“Please, no.”

*

“I just miss him, okay?” Dorian slurs. “He works so much, it’s not good for his health. And for mine too, let’s be honest. I am all for treating your duties seriously but this?”

“Yeah. It went for too long,” Bull grumbles.

“It’s just that when you speak with him for long, other conversations don’t seem so interesting anymore. There is always something he can say that makes all the difference, even when we are alone…”

“Yeah, his little body squirming against mine…”

“Hey, I’m trying to say something meaningful here,” Dorian shots Bull a criticizing glare.

“You love him, just say so. What, the breach will swallow us all because you admit it?” Bull snorts and Dorian doesn’t grace that with an answer. Even if that’s the case, Cullen is the only one to hear that.

“It’s getting bright. Enough drinking, enough working,” Dorian decides, raising to his feet. “I’m going to see what’s going on there. Come with me?”

“Sure thing,” Bull agrees.

*

“Andraste’s tits, thought they would never go,” Sera snorts. “Better sit and mope here, idiots.”

“Yeah, I had enough of them pretending they don’t care and nearly crying to their mugs,” Krem laughs. “Too many days, too many very bad jokes to hear.”

“And Inky and Cullen needs some fun, important asses being all important can kill people,” Sera says laughing. “I won! So you take singing girl for a beer or two!”

“Hey, it was my comment to make Bull moving! You’re finally asking your Widdle out.”

“Already did,” Sera grins toothily. “Yesterday. Your turn, Vint. Or our poor piss bard will sing herself to death.”

*

“Sweet Maker,” Dorian mutters. “We came too late.”

Chairs are scattered everywhere, glasses of wine and empty bottles on the floor. Cullen’s coat is hanging from the chandelier tied to it with a rope and Cullen with Lavellan are sitting on the table, throwing everything they can at the poor cloth. Only a neat pile of documents shows how much work they actually did.

“Whatever it is, they didn’t fuck, did they,” Bull snorts but he actually looks pleased.

“Can’t stay’re, there’s swamp! Will swallow you!” Lavellan instructs them slurring so much it’s difficult to distinguish words. “’ave to jump. On chairs!”

“And that is?” Dorian asks pointing to the coat and Cullen bursts into inelegant cackles.

“Lord whatever his name! He won’t offend any of us anymore!”

“Right,” Dorian takes in the scene and can’t help laughter bubbling in his chest. “I’m taking you to your room, Commander. Enough is enough.”

“Same goes for you, Kadan,” Bull reaches for Lavellan who nearly throws himself into Bull’s arms. “Bed it is.”

“Just promise to not drop me to that swamp,” the elf mumbles sleepily nuzzling into the Qunari with such naturalness and trust that Dorian has to smile.

“Won’t do that Kadan,” Bull chuckles as he carries the almighty Inquisitor out of the room. On his way he pulls down Cullen’s coat with one move, handing the abused cloth to Dorian but makes sure to take the rope with him.

“Are we coming as well?” Dorian asks coming close to Cullen and easily positioning himself between Cullen’s thighs.

“Tomorrow I need some fighting, no more paperwork,” Cullen informs him, his legs wrapping around Dorian’s thighs and pulling him closer.

“I know better ways to tire you, Amatus,” Dorian purrs and Cullen’s smile is brighter than the sun that finally shows in the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to chat and fangirl over DA, my tumblr is melting-sky.tumblr.com


End file.
